Fatal Judgment by Irene Hannon Read Free Book Online Page A

those dark hours because Cole and Alison had shown up and stuck by him 24/7. That’s what siblings did. That’s what family was for. But Liz had no one. And no matter his personal feelings toward her, he couldn’t let her do this hard thing alone.
    Firming his grip on her arm, he urged her forward. “I’m fine.”
    To his surprise, she held back and searched his face. “Are you sure?”
    She was giving him one more chance to change his mind. Putting her own needs secondary to his. Willing to spare him at her own expense—despite her clear recognition of his antipathy toward her.
    That was another disconnect with the image he’d drawn of her from his conversations with Doug.
    And another reason not to let her down.
    “I’m sure.”
    She drew a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
    Susan had stopped up ahead by a curtained cubicle, and she gestured toward it when they joined her. “Feel free to stay as long as you like.”
    As she moved away, Jake kept a firm grip on Liz’s arm. “Ready?”
    She straightened her shoulders. Lifted her chin. Nodded.
    Leaning forward, he took hold of the drape. And as he prepared to pull it aside, he dug deep for a silent prayer to the God he’d neglected of late, asking him to give Liz the courage and strength she would need to get through the next few minutes—and the days and months to come.

4
     
    ______
     
    Liz thought she’d mentally prepared herself to see Stephanie.
    She was wrong.
    As her sister came into view, her slender form outlined beneath the white sheet, she faltered. Without Jake’s steadying grip on her arm, without the bolstering effect of his solid physical presence and aura of strength, she had a feeling she’d have crumpled into a heap on the floor.
    For close to a minute, she remained at the foot of the bed, willing the shakiness in her legs to stabilize as she watched the steady rise and fall of Stephanie’s chest. And reminded herself that the oxygen flowing through her sister’s lungs was being provided by a ventilator. That despite the lifelike movement, Stephanie was gone, leaving only a physical shell behind.
    And so was the niece or nephew she’d never know.
    She closed her eyes, the double loss and the sudden, empty feeling of utter aloneness twisting her stomach into a tight knot and choking off her breath.
    God, please give me strength!
    When she at last felt capable of moving forward, she eased free of Jake’s grip and walked toward the head of the bed. Tape covered much of Stephanie’s lower face, holding the endotracheal tube in place. A white dressing swathed her upper head. Very few of her sister’s features were exposed.
    But the black eye Alan had inflicted stood out. Visible evidence of the attack that had convinced Stephanie to flee to the refuge of her sister’s home. To a place she’d mistakenly assumed would be a safe haven.
    A bone-deep coldness settled over Liz, and she shivered.
    Seconds later, a jacket infused with warmth was draped over her shoulders. Angling toward Jake, she noted the faint parallel creases etched between his eyebrows. Felt the concern—and compassion—radiating from the depths of his brown eyes. The latter warmed a place deep in her soul much as his jacket was chasing the chill from her skin.
    “Thank you.”
    He acknowledged her expression of gratitude with a nod.
    Turning back to her sister, she reached for her hand. It was warm and supple, the fingers long and tapering and graceful. The hand of a ballet dancer. Stephanie had aspired to that career, once upon a time. Until Liz had discouraged her, urging her to choose a more practical profession instead. And so her sister had, earning a business degree that had led her to an executive assistant position. Which had, in turn, led her to Alan.
    So much bad advice.
    So many mistakes.
    Liz’s throat tightened, and she stifled a sob. Fought for control.
    Holding on to her emotions by the flimsiest thread, she leaned down and pressed a kiss to her sister’s